A Change in Plans
by Fangirlofrandomness
Summary: Will has to save his father, but doesn't want to lose his fiancee in the process. As usual, it's up to frienemy Jack to show him that the two aren't mutually exclusive. Scene from AWE. NOT slash. It's both Sparrabeth and Willabeth, actually...


(A/N: I have about three different stories going on in my head right now, and I'm editing and revising my old stories as well. But this little scene just stood out to me so much from the movie, I just had to sort of analyze it. It's really intriguing, the relationship between Jack and Will...not necessarily in a slash kind of way, but in a frienemy kind of way. But really, Will owes Jack a lot...without Jack, there would be no Elizabeth for him...I'm a Sparrabeth shipper, but I like Will too, as a character. Enjoy!)

With swift, smooth strokes of his knife, Will Turner tied the body of yet another poor dead East India Company sailor to a barrel. Strange, how callously he could handle the dead. He didn't even flinch from the smell anymore. Maybe it was because Will had figured out that there were worse things than death. At least there was no confusion about death. No decisions to be made, no choices to choose from. Just one option.

Disturbing as it seemed, death sounded like heaven to Will, at the moment. No choosing between father or fiancée, no heartbreak on either side. But death wasn't an option – not yet, not for Will, at least. But for Davy Jones, immortal or not, death was an inevitability. Because Will had to kill him.

Finishing off his knot and neatly cutting off the excess rope, Will caught sight of his sharp, silver knife and wondered yet again how he was going to do it. Stab the heart. Could he do it? That one act would mean the end of any possible relationship between him and Elizabeth. But he'd made a promise to his father, and Will didn't break promises easily.

"You escaped the brig even quicker than I expected," a familiar voice drawled. Will stiffened automatically in response, knife at the ready as he looked up to see Captain Jack Sparrow himself smirking down at him.

Jack cocked his head to the side, considering the boy with the glinting blade drawn before him. Surely the boy was smart enough to realize – "William, do you notice something? Or, rather," he corrected himself, as he clambered down from the prow of the _Pearl_, "Do you notice something that is not there to be noted?"

"You haven't raised an alarm," Will replied warily. Somehow, that fact didn't make him feel any bit less suspicious. Jack was an unknown factor in Will's plans. Sometimes, it seemed like the bloody pirate went out of his way to create trouble for Will. Not to mention what Will had seen Jack and Elizabeth – but Will blocked that thought from finishing. No use getting distracted now.

Jack smirked down at the boy. "Odd, isn't it? But not as odd as this." He indicated the elaborate barrel setup with a sweep of his hand. "Come up with this all by your lonesome, did you?" It surprised Jack to know the whelp was capable of such schemes. Maybe he was taking to the pirate way after all. Jack had always known Will Turner was a smart lad, but he usually lacked…vision. He was so focused on one detail that he failed to see the big picture.

"I said to myself, think like Jack," Will told him, a slight sneer turning up the side of his mouth. After all, it was exactly what a scallywag pirate like Jack would do. Double-cross everyone, keep switching sides. Over the past two years, Will had seen how effective it was, and Will was a fast learner.

"And this is what you've arrived at?" Jack snorted derisively. "Lead Beckett to Shipwreck Cove so as to gain his trust, accomplish your own ends?" Was that really what the boy thought he did? "It's like you don't know me at all, mate!"

Really, Turner had only managed to scratch the surface of Jack's plans. The boy had got the idea all wrong. He was starting wrong. You didn't charge into battle and just hack down the next foe that got in your way. You sneak behind foes when other people are hacking them down. The path of least resistance, so to speak. That was always the path that Jack took. Turner's path, though – Turner's path was all directly forward. Once you knew one part of it, you knew all of it. That was the problem with straightforward paths.

But apparently, this thought hadn't occurred to Turner yet. And so, the poor deluded whelp was spending all his time stealing ships, leaving breadcrumb-trails for an undeserving stuffed codfish named Beckett, and even double-crossing his own fiancée, thereby alienating her from himself.

For a brief moment, Jack couldn't help but wonder, much as he tried to suppress the thought, how Elizabeth, the fiancée in question, was faring on board Sao Feng's ship. Had she known about Turner's schemes? From what Jack had seen, it was unlikely, but then, Elizabeth was a very unlikely sort of woman.

"And how does your dearly beloved feel about this plan?" asked Jack nonchalantly, as Will finally lowered his toothpick of a knife. Instantly, the boy's face fell, growing as dark and gloomy as the night they were sailing through. It told Jack all he needed to know. "Ah, you've not seen fit to trust her with it."

_Trouble in paradise, eh?_ Jack thought to himself, unusually pleased. He'd thought as much. Elizabeth would never have approved of making deals with Beckett. When Elizabeth made an enemy, she made one wholeheartedly. Bargaining with Beckett would definitely earn her wrath. The whelp was walking on thin ice here.

The way Jack saw it, Turner was also being unbelievably stupid in not telling Elizabeth of his plans. Elizabeth Swann understood ways and means better than Turner. If that young lady were in the same predicament, she would have come up with the same solution Jack himself came up with, albeit after thinking a few hours longer, of course.

Will glanced up at Jack, and his face was sorrowful. Jack's easy, blunt comments had cut right to the core of Will's problem. "I'm losing her Jack," he confessed abruptly, looking away. Strange though it was, it felt right to be telling Jack this. Jack, of all people, knew how much Will had done to win Elizabeth. Jack had prompted Will to first speak out, Jack had helped rescue Elizabeth, Jack had been a link between the two. Until Jack's death. That had sparked a rift – a rift begun with Will's journey on the _Dutchman_, a rift that only seemed to grow wider as time passed.

"Every step I take for my father is a step away from Elizabeth." And that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? He couldn't have both. And Will felt that familiar rock of despair settle once more in his throat.

For a moment, Jack felt a flash of pity for the poor boy. He really was naïve if he believed the words he was saying. The boy was making it seem like a one-or-the-other choice, either father or fiancée. When in reality, a million different prospects existed. That was the problem with the whelp. No sense of perspective or imagination.

Unlike Elizabeth, who had much more imagination than she knew what to do with. If Turner had trusted her enough, chances are, he wouldn't be feeling sorry for himself any more. And again, Jack had that fleeting sensation that Elizabeth Swann was a tad too good for Will Turner.

_Enough pity for the whelp_, Jack decided. At the moment, it looked like self-pity was to Will what rum was to Jack. And self-pity for what? He had an obvious solution to his predicament staring him in the face! He got the best deal of the lot, really - with Jack's help, he'd get back a fiancée and a father - a family. With Jack's help, Elizabeth would go back to Will, forgive him for his deception, and they would live happily ever after. With Jack's help, all of William Turner's problems would be solved. And then, when he was done helping, Captain Jack Sparrow would be left to swim back to his beloved _Pearl_ and chase the freedom he always longed for.

_Freedom was better than a woman, anyway_, Jack reminded himself firmly. Freedom didn't say no once you caught up to it. And so, once again, Jack helped the whelp see what was right in front of his eyes.

"Mate, if you choose to lock your heart away, you'll lose it for certain," he told Will, with the air of stating the obvious. Will's predicament strongly reminded Jack of Davy Jones. After all, both men betrayers who punished themselves for their treason by wallowing in misery for as long as they could, and in doing so, lost the woman they loved.

"If I might lend a machete to your intellectual thicket," Jack suggested gently, beginning to feel a little sorry for the boy, despite his harsh thoughts. He was only a kid, after all, and unlike his fiancée Elizabeth Swann, he didn't have the tricky, cunning mindset of a pirate. "Avoid the choice altogether. Change the facts. Let _someone else_ dispatch Jones," he said, carefully enunciating 'someone else' so the boy got the idea through his unusually thick skull.

_Change the facts_._ Was that possible?_ Will wondered. He had taken it for granted that promising to free his father meant killing Jones, but what if – what if it simply meant _helping_ overthrow Jones? Wouldn't that work just as well? But who would do the job?

"Who?" Will asked, confused. Who would be foolhardy enough – but then the answer came to him. "You?" No wonder. Jack was after immortality. He should have known.

Jack smiled cheerily at Will, but his grin faltered under Will's disapproving expression. Jack sighed mentally. Bugger. Of course the whelp would want explanations. He couldn't just let a thing be. He always needed directions and plans and whatnot.

"Death has a curious way of reshuffling one's priorities," Jack explained shortly. He did not want to die again anytime soon. He had nightmares about the Locker, all sand and sand with no sea in sight. It had been the worst experience of his life, and he had no intention of repeating it.

"I'll slip aboard the Dutchman, find the heart, stab the beating thing. Your father goes free, and you're free to be with your charming murderess," Jack told Will with a gleam in his eye. Really, the whelp was getting a very good deal here. He got his father back with no fuss, and a fiancée who loved him again. What's more, said fiancée wouldn't even need to go around killing Jack (again) because he would already be immortal!

Will looked at Jack suspiciously. "And you're willing to carve out your heart and bind yourself to the Dutchman, forever." That didn't seem like Jack, to make such a big sacrifice.

Jack smiled gently, as though he was a father correcting a foolish son's mistakes. "No, mate. I'm free forever. Free to sail the seas beyond the edges of the map, free from death itself." Jack could see it happening vividly. There was a ship, a beautiful powerful ship with black sails, and at its helm stood Jack, compass in hand and a destination in mind, sailing to wherever he pleased. _What more could you want of the world?_ Jack thought to himself, and then blinked away the image of a blonde-haired woman with sultry, salty lips standing behind Jack at the helm.

"You've got to do the job though, Jack," Will reminded him quietly. He could recognize the look on Jack's face – it was the same expression Will wore whenever he thought about Elizabeth, whenever he thought about their future together. With surprise, Will realized that he had been wrong. There couldn't possibly be anything going on between Jack and Elizabeth, or Jack wouldn't be helping Will like this. Absently, Will wondered what Jack's own dream was that made his eyes go all bright. "You have to ferry souls to the next world. Or end up just like Jones."

Jack's face blanched just a little, the glowing in his eyes all gone. Jack's vision had changed suddenly. Sure, there was the _Pearl_, but now it was all grimy and crusty, and there he was at the helm, but instead of the handsome, swarthy face, there was slimy fish scales and tentacles flowing down his neck.

"I don't have the face for tentacles," Jack murmured, more to himself than Will, his face gloomy. But then he brightened up again. "But immortal has to count for something, eh?" There was so much time to fill. He was sure there would be time off from the job, and vacations and sick leave and whatnot. Wasn't there some sort of union for ferrymen of the undead?

_Right then_, Jack decided. _Enough of this chitchat_. Eyeing Will, he realized he'd forgotten a major part of the plan. "Oh!" he exclaimed in annoyance, and then handed a surprised Turner his compass.

Will was so surprised he forgot to be suspicious. He had never seen Jack part with his compass before. "What's this for?" he asked.

Jack grinned sneakily, and instantly Will's internal alarm began wailing at full volume. "Think like me, it'll come to you," Jack smirked.

And then, so suddenly that Will could not even try to stop him, Jack leaned in and blew a strong puff of air in Will's face. Will instantly backed up in defense, trying to get the stale-rum stench out of his nose, and tripped over the side of the _Pearl_.

It gave Jack great pleasure to see Will gasping and struggling beside the _Pearl_. The very same Pearl he'd tried to steal only last morning. _Captain Turner, indeed! _Jack snorted mentally. Quickly, before the _Pearl_ got too far ahead, Jack cut the barrel and the dead man's body loose and pushed it overboard. Beckett's next breadcrumb would have a little extra something going along with it.

"My regards to Davy Jones!" Jack called cheerily. That should give a hint to the whelp about what to do next. Yawning contentedly, he headed back to his cabin for a drink and some good night's rest now the whelp was safely away from the _Pearl_.

Spluttering, Will finally caught hold of the barrel and got a good breath of air in his lungs. Glaring up at the Pearl, he saw Jack Sparrow sauntering away from the rails. The feeling of being used was familiar – Will had experienced it time and time again with alarming frequency where Jack was concerned.

By now, Will knew the pattern by heart. Now that Jack had told him (roughly) what his (current) plan was, Will had to play along to get what he wanted. Jack would get the _Pearl_ and his freedom, and Will would get his father and Elizabeth back.

It wasn't until many hours later, when Will finally got dried aboard the _Flying Dutchman_, that he would finally grudgingly admit to himself that Captain Jack Sparrow's plan was simply brilliant.

But as of now, as Will bobbed helplessly up and down like a cork in the water, only one statement could accurately express Will's feelings.

"I hate him."

(A/N: How'd you like it? It's really interesting how Jack keeps helping Will - in his own way - and I really like the dynamic between the two. It sort of reminds me of brothers or something... Anyway, please review and tell me what you think, I love to hear other people's opinions. Thanks for reading!)


End file.
